


To Have A Family

by NHarmonic



Series: Whitebeard Pirates [5]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Coming Out, Family, Gen, Trans Male Character, Trans!Haruta, Whitebeard is the best dad ever!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:42:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10955184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NHarmonic/pseuds/NHarmonic
Summary: Summary: The day Haruka became Haruta. And the first child Whitebeard got to name.





	To Have A Family

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I feel like no one really touches on Haruta and their gender identity. Oda wrote that no daughters were on the battlefield, implying that Haruta is a male, but I don't think anyone really follows that mentality. Most just go for male or female. I’ve only read one fic where they were non-binary and used they pronouns. I’m making them trans for this fic.

The world is a cruel and unusual place. For every kind person, there are two terrible people to pull them into an alley and beat them. Haruka learned this the hard way. For her, there was her mother and father; the people who were supposed to love and cherish her as much as they were supposed to cherish each other. Haruka should have known better. Dad cheated on mom; mom cheated on dad.

Haruka told mom and dad she was a he. Mom and dad beat Him within an inch of his life and then forced him to be a she. Haruka ran away.

And was found by Pops.

A fourteen-year-old teenage girl who was really a boy. Never spent a moment on a ship. By all means useless at sea. And yet…

_“This is a rather miserable island,” the old man mused, looking around._

_Haruka stared at the village that was supposed to be his. “Yea,” he agreed quietly._

_“Gurarara,” Haruka turned to the old man, who held his hand out. “Join my crew; become my daughter Haruka.”_

_The flinch that usually comes with being referred to as a girl never came as Haruka stared up with wide eyes. The answer was obvious._

_“Okay…”_

Four months at sea; it was easier than Haruka expected. Of course, they thought he was she, and so his work was easy; laundry, kitchen duty, simple things.

Haruka hated it.

The men and women on board were nice. They treated him like the family he never had. Being with them made him discover what a family truly was. The commanders were especially adoring to him, treating him like a little kid without being too overbearing. Pops was always happy for a cuddle and a story.

They all called him sister and daughter.

It was a bittersweet pill to swallow. He was happy to belong. But he was sad; because he knew he didn’t belong. Haruka was still a girl to them.

It was painful.

Pops, Haruka noticed, was always happy to listen. Whether it was a report having to do with the crew, or a crewmember coming to talk about their day. Pops always offered up his chair arm or even his lap, and he actually listened. Or stayed silent when no words could be given.

In hindsight; Haruka should have played it safe. He should have waited until they were docked at an island to say anything; given himself an out if it went bad.

He supposed this was his subconscious telling him how much he trusted Pops.

“Good afternoon my daughter,” Pops said, smiling at his youngest.

Haruka flinched at the term but shoved on. “I have a request Pops,” he said, fingers gripping the dress Izou had made him.

He hated it, but it was made by his beloved brother, so he ignored his feelings. Haruka loved his brothers.

“Oh?” Pops wondered, offering his lap. He frowned when he was denied. “What is it Haruka?”

“I want to cut my hair,” Haruka said firmly, he had to, otherwise it would never come out. “Really short. Like Shanks-short, or, or Namur-short. Just- just short.”

Pops hummed. “It's your hair Haruka,” he said gently, “I’m sure Thatch or Izou would be happy to cut it how ever short you like.”

“And I don’t like dresses,” Haruka said desperately. “Or skirts, or blouses, or other girl's clothes.”

“They are rather impractical for life at sea,” Pops agreed.

Haruka stared. “I want to bind my breasts,” he said, his face flushing at the mention of one of his most hated body part.

Pops was starting to get an idea of where this was going and his expression softened more. “Why don’t you say what you really want to say Haruka?” he asked quietly.

Haruka stared with wide eyes, small tears gathering. He hugged himself tight and looked at the ground. “I want to be your son,” he said so quietly.

Haruka gasped as he suddenly found himself squeezed in familiar arms. They made him feel warm and safe; like nothing could get to him; like he was loved. Would they always feel this way?

Haruka looked up as those arms loosened, and a large thumb wiped away his tears. Pops smiled gently.

“My daughter, my son, or something in between,” Pops said, “You’ll always be my child, and I’ll love you no matter what.”

Haruka sniffed, wiping his face but the tears kept coming. “Pops,” he whimpered, but nothing came out.

“Guararara,” Pops chuckled; that sound was home. “Come on Haruka; we still have time before dinner. I’m sure Thatch would be happy to cut your hair.”

“Okay Pops.”

~?~?~?~

“Like this?” Thatch asked, wiping his razor off.

Haruka stared at himself in the mirror, his hair now as short as Curiel's, and he breathed out. Whitebeard smiled at his newest son. He could see it; a great weight has been released.

“Thank you, Thatch,” Haruka swore, running his fingers through his shortened hair.

“Anything for my little sis-brother,” Thatch said, squeezing Haruka’s shoulder.

Whitebeard hummed. “Will you be telling the rest of your siblings tonight?” he asked.

Haruka fingered his dress; he hadn’t changed yet. “Will- will they be like you and Thatch?” he asked quietly.

“We’re all misfits and outcast here Haruka,” Thatch assured. “To hurt you is to be no better than those that hurt them.”

“There will be some,” Whitebeard said gently, “But they’ll warm up, just as they always do.”

“Yea, I mean look at Izou,” Thatch said, “He’s a crossdress and everyone here loves and respect him.”

“And they’ll come to do the same for you,” Whitebeard agreed, “Not that they don’t already.”

“O- okay Pops,” Haruka said.

~?~?~?~

Dinner time found Haruka sitting at the commander's table, at the end, next to Whitebeard and Thatch. At first, Haruka was so nervous that he hadn’t eaten anything, merely gripping his father’s pant leg to self-soothe. It wasn’t until Izou and Marco complimented his hair, and Blenheim had asked about his day, that he started to calm down.

It was near the end of dinner, when only the commanders and a few stragglers were still eating, that something was finally said. Whitebeard rubbed Haruka’s shoulder and Haruka looked up with scared eyes. Whitebeard said nothing, he merely smiled, and when Haruka turned to Thatch, the older prankster smiled just as warmly.

Breathing shakily, Haruka stood, getting the commanders’ attention. “E-Everyone,” Haruka said to them.

Everyone looked at him and Haruka clenched his first. “I- I’m a boy,” he finally said, closing his eyes tight. “And I want to be your brother, not your sister.”

There was silence, and then;

“So that's it yoi,” Marco smiled. “I had wondered what was bothering you.”

Haruka looked up in shock. “What?” he whispered.

Namur hummed in agreement. “I had noticed too,” he said. “Fishman island has a lot of okama so I kind of guessed.”

“None of are the same size,” Izou groaned.

“You can use a pair of my pants yoi,” Marco offered. “We aren’t too different in size.”

“And I can hem one of your shirts,” Izou pointed at Thatch.

Haruka stared. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

The commanders looked at their brother. “What do you mean?” Kingdew asked gently.

“You’re supposed to buy me dresses,” Haruka said, gripping his arms. “And make me wear make-up. You’re supposed to call me sister and daughter and- and-.”

Haruka couldn’t help himself as he cried again, bringing his arms up to trying and hide his face. The commanders and Whitebeard softened, glancing at each other in sadness. Whitebeard took Haruka in his embrace again.

“Those people weren’t your parents,” Whitebeard said, “I am. And I want only your happiness Haruka.”

“No…”

Everyone paused.

“No?” Whitebeard asked, loosening his hold.

Haruka gripped his captain’s coat. “One last request,” he said quietly.

“Anything,” Whitebeard swore.

Haruka looked at him. “Give me a new name?”

Whitebeard flushed with happiness, unable to hide his emotions behind his stern face at the gift Haruka was giving him.

“A new name you say?” he asked nonchalantly, and the commanders snorted at their father in amusement.

“Let’s see,” Whitebeard hummed, scratching his chin.

“The way your name is currently spelled,” Whitebeard said, “It means “distant” (遥).”

“Yea?” his newest son asked.

“Well now I’ll name you Haruta (春 太),” Whitebeard said, “Because the _real_ you was born in the spring, and because you’ve been through thick and thin to find us.”

The newly named Haruta breathed out and suddenly was so tired, and yet so relieved. “Haruta,” he repeated.

“Yes,” Whitebeard said, “My son, Haruta.”

**Author's Note:**

> End.  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> I don’t really have anything else to say. Please leave a comment or kudos to tell me what you think.  
> I’m sorry about my story Three Dates. I’ve totally lost my muse on it and so it is on Haitus until something comes back.  
> Till next time,  
> Ja ne~!


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